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<title>He Doesn't - Does He? by lastcrazyhorn</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832669">He Doesn't - Does He?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastcrazyhorn/pseuds/lastcrazyhorn'>lastcrazyhorn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Unexpected Desire [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Midsomer Murders - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Discovery, sexual awakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:20:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>472</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832669</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastcrazyhorn/pseuds/lastcrazyhorn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Barnaby realises that he might not be as straight as he has always thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Barnaby/George Bullard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Unexpected Desire [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Midsomer_Melee</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>He Doesn't - Does He?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't really expect anyone to read this, but it's important to my thought process.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He'd been sitting in his office, just people watching for a moment between cases, when it had hit him. </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>He didn't like men, did he?  He had been watching other men as they walked past his desk, idly thinking about their hands and . . . and their cocks; wondering what those hands would look like wrapped around him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And it hit him.  Since when did he do that?  Since when did he think about the cocks of other men? </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He makes it to his feet and down the hall before he has a chance to push that thought any further across his mind.  And then up to the toilet on the 3rd floor, the one that is a single unisex room that happens to have a lock.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He has to put his head between his knees as the panic attack comes blaring through his body.  His hands fumble blindly for his phone, and he calls George's number automatically.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gets him by the grace of God and barks out his location and then lets the phone fall to the floor, his fingers going numb from lack of oxygen.  He tries to breathe, but cannot remember how, and he feels very close to passing out when George arrives with a knock, and a quiet, "Tom?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He lets him in and George locks the door behind him, crouching down in front of him with a concerned look on his face.  A paper bag is shoved in his face and he takes it and proceeds to breathe out all of his panic and dismay into it.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Finally--<em>finally</em>--his breath slows down and he slides the rest of the way to the floor.  George hands him his phone and he puts it into his pocket with shaking fingers.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Do you want to talk about it?"  George asks, ever sedate. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Am--," He swallows loudly.  "Am I gay?"  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>George sits the rest of the way down, easing his way into sitting cross legged in front of him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I wouldn't imagine you to be.  Probably bi, like me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tom wipes his face with his handkerchief and steadfastly ignores the shaking of his fingers.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But I just now realised?"  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He doesn't know if he's asking a question of George or of himself.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Having regard for the same sex is hardly popular, Tom.  I can't imagine it ever being very safe for you to give any real thought <em>to</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tom nods.  George's words make sense.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But now the floodgates have been opened," Tom whispers.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It's rather hard to close them again," George says, commiseratingly.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tom takes a deep breath and tries to centre himself.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I might take the rest of the day off," He says, making it slowly to his feet.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>George's supporting hand is on his elbow.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I might drive you home then," George says, eyes searching his face.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Tom nods.  </p>
</div><div>
<p></p></div>
  </div></div>
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